


Something to Lean On

by HattyPatty



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, romance if you squint real hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HattyPatty/pseuds/HattyPatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sole Survivor struggles with memories of the past, and Paladin Danse lends an ear to his plight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Lean On

   He rolled the baseball in his hands, tossing it up to the ceiling as he lounged in his bed, trying to ignore how broken his house was. The breeze that came through the place biting at his nose. He reminded himself to finish boarding up the walls before autumn, work on fixing the roof again. Last time it rained he spent hours mopping up all the water.

   He tried not to think about the past, but every time he closed his eyes he was back there. His wife in the kitchen, giggling to Codsworth’s ridiculous jokes. The sound of the neighbors always arguing next door. His son in just the next room, cooing and babbling, whining to be held. His _beautiful_ baby boy. He never wanted to be put down, it was a miracle whenever he slept in his crib for more than an hour. It was mostly his fault, always picking Shaun up and carrying him around. Had a pouch he’d wear so he could strap Shaun to his chest. He’d hop around the kitchen and call Shaun his little kangaroo. Some nights when Shaun just absolutely wouldn’t accept the crib, he’d fall asleep in the rocking chair with him in his arms. Every moment back then felt so precious, he had no idea how precious they would wind up being. Shaun made it… easier, to forget the pains of war. While his hands were disposing of stinky diapers, he could sometimes forget about all the blood that had been on them months beforehand.

   He opens his eyes again, staring into the broken ceiling. Feeling the sharp wind tear through his house. His home is barren, the world is dead, and he is alone. He screams out once, in anguish. Turning into the pillow as he flails, screaming and crying into the ragged pillow. It isn’t _fair_. He should have been the one holding Shaun. He should have been the one shot by Kellogg. His wife was always stronger than he was. She had the shoulders that could lift the world up and never break a sweat. He didn’t even have the strength to listen to the holotape she’d left for him. He fell limp, his childlike tantrum fading as he wallowed in his own self pity. He was a wreck of a man who only wanted his son back. He wanted Shaun back in his arms. He wanted to teach his baby boy to play baseball like his mother did for him. He wouldn’t abandon his son like his father had done to him.

   “Solider.”

   He shot up all at once, spinning around to stare at the huge gap in the corner of his room where only the bare bones of his house remained. There stood Paladin Danse in full power armor and rifle in hand, out on the street staring into his little room. He looked, maybe concerned, but the Paladin had the emotional range of an overdone thanksgiving turkey so it was hard to tell.

   He wiped off his face quickly with the back of his hand, “Paladin Danse,” He began. Matching the Paladin’s tone of indifference.

   “Is there a problem? I heard you scream,” Danse shifted slightly in his power armor, the sound of metal creaking together easily heard in the silence of the night.

   He shook his head, “No, no problem at all, Sir. Just, uhm, night terrors.” He paused as the Paladin considered his words, “Why are you up anyway? It’s well into the night.”

   “I have trouble sleeping,” Danse explained, quick and to the point. He lowered the weapon with the conformation there was nothing actually wrong.

    He couldn’t help but wonder if the Paladin’s difficulty sleeping had anything to do with his refusal to ever exit his power armor.

   “Ah, right,” He nodded. Staring at the man who sort of loomed in the corner of his room. More accurately outside of his room. On the street. It was a strange invasion of privacy, but to be fair half his bedroom was open to the world outside. He’d mused it was like a big open window until people started coming over to it to talk to him through it. Sometimes Dogmeat would slip through the holes to hop in his bed when the door was shut.

   “I’m here if you need me, Solider,” Danse’s words brought him back into the moment. He knew the Paladin had a hard time with feelings, or emotional support. He figured this was just his way of offering that much needed comfort.

   He nodded slowly, rolling off his bed and tugging on his shoes, “Thank you Paladin Danse, would you mind walking with me?”

   “Not at all, sometimes I find doing a patrol around the perimeter helps with the night terrors. An affirmation the perimeter is secure and there’s no need to fear.” The Paladin turned, clanking over to his front door outside of the house.

   He watched as the man vanished from sight, wondering how the hell he’d managed to sneak up on him like that. His heart was still racing from the sudden authoritative tone, felt like boot camp all over again. As he left the room he was sure to grab the worn baseball, walking through the empty hall with a toss of it into the air before he reached the door and opened it up to Danse. Standing just outside it like a devoted Jehovah’s Witness come to bring the good word of the Brotherhood.

   It brought a small smile to his face as he stepped out into the nighttime air, which wasn’t much different than the air inside his room. He began walking down the cracked cement of his street, the only sound in the serene night was the clanking Paladin beside him. He tossed the ball up into the air, catching it idly as they began down toward the bridge leading out of his suburban home.

   “My mom gave me this ball,” He began. “I snagged it before we went to the vault all those years ago. I don’t know why. Instinct I guess. Just… snatched it and ran.”

   He glanced over at Paladin Danse, but the man only silently nodded to prompt him to continue.

   “She gave it to me on my birthday. Never really knew my dad, he… left my mom when I was still a baby. Only ever came back on occasion. Would stay at a hotel down the street for a day or two. He always forgot my birthday. Sometimes he’d send me a Christmas gift or something. I wanted his love like nothing else. He once stayed for a week, it was great, happiest time of my childhood. He stayed in the house with me and mom, he’d take me on drives after supper through the countryside. Talk to me about the work he did. We played uh, baseball together. Played catch in the backyard. It was great to suddenly be like all the other kids in my neighborhood, like, it doesn’t matter now, but back then my mom being a single parent was kinda… weird.”

   “But, my dad promised he’d take me to the city to see a real ballgame for my birthday that year. I had such high hopes, sat by the window all day in my jersey. Waiting for Dad’s truck to come. Never did, of course. Mom took me that weekend though. Took off work to take me to see them. It was the best birthday in the world,” He smiled fondly, his mother had been the light of his life and he’d almost forgotten about her in the frantic world around him, “She caught it for me, bottom of the 8th, ball flying high above our heads. And there was my mother, standing up taller than half the men around her. That ball just rolled into her glove like it was meant to be. I still remember her looking down at me with stars in her eyes when she gave it to me. Carried me out on her shoulders. Used to tuck this damn ball into bed beside me. But it… it was my prized possession as a kid.”

   He took a long breath, “I forgot about it for a while, until my mom gave it back to me. It was sort of a uh, house warming gift. She knew we were expecting, came over one last time and had a box with her of all these little trinkets. We spent like an hour digging through it and telling stories on my living room floor,” He smiled softly, looking down at the ground as they stopped on the bridge to lean against the rickety railing. Or at least he did while Danse stood there listening to him. “It was when we were taking my mom home, she grabbed hold of my hands. I had never really… like, realized how calloused they were. Even in old age you could feel the wear of the world on her hands. But she took hold of my hands and told me I was going to be a great father. It… it was such a simple thing to hear, especially then when everyone was telling me it. Reassuring the new dad on the block that he doesn’t need to baby proof every single piece of furniture in the house and everything in a 20 foot distance to said house. Something, about the way my mother said it, said everything I needed to hear. I wasn’t going to be my father.”

   He looked up at Danse, who was silent until given a slight nod to indicate he should probably talk.

   “I’m sure you would have made a great father,” He paused before rushing to add, “and you _will_ when we get Shaun back. I’m sorry if I’m… lacking in the support you need, but I believe in you. You’re a good man, and there’s no doubt you will make a great father. I have my doubts you would be anything like the man you described as your father, if anything you’d be like your mother. Who I imagine as a hardworking, determined individual the brotherhood would be proud of.”

   He smiled up at Danse, who looked most certainly on edge. Hopeful that his words had helped. Maybe embarrassed his emotional range was lacking, but he did try. He reached up to place a hand against the cool metal of the power armor, “Thank you for listening Danse, I think that’s… what I needed right now. Codsworth doesn’t know how to stay quiet when you talk to him about that kind of thing. He tries to fix everything you present him with.” He laughed lightly.

   “Just happy to help. If you ever need anyone to listen, I’m here, alright?” Danse’s voice dipped softly, a sincerity to it that calmed the sting in his heart.

   He nodded his head slowly, “I appreciate it Danse, I…” He swallowed a breath, “I’d like to do something while you’re still here please.” He raised his pipboy, flicking open the top before pulling the holodisk from his breast pocket to slide into the device. Fingers stumbling over the words along the top in her writing, ‘Hi Honey!’ How the device had withstood the test of time he didn’t know. He hesitated to press play, but having Danse there helped. Gave him the strength his wife once lent him to conquer all that rose up against him. He pressed the button, leaning against the Paladin as he heard their voices again.

   He couldn’t help the tears, but he couldn’t help smiling either.

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more as like, a developmental thing. With eventually SMOOCHING real hard and holding hands or something. Maybe they'll touch butts. Or struggle with more emotions. Who knows.


End file.
